


Inked

by spnjensenfanfic (whalesandfails)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 04:47:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12124839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalesandfails/pseuds/spnjensenfanfic
Summary: Soulmate AU, the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your body somewhere, yours say “I don’t actually drink coffee like Dean.” You started watching Supernatural because of the fictional Dean Winchester, daydreaming about Jensen Ackles being your soulmate. But he wouldn’t be, would he?





	Inked

“Thank you so much for the tickets to this, Cassandra!” You gushed to your best friend. This con was a double whammy - you could look at two fictional Deans that you loved (one from Gilmore Girls, one from Supernatural). But really… You and Cassandra both knew you were here for the latter. Jensen Ackles was everything you dreamed of. Since Supernatural had started three years ago and Cassie had told you there was a Dean on it and you had watched the pilot, you were hooked. 

As a gift for your birthday, she brought you to the convention in your city, both to support a show you both loved and hoping that being surrounded by so many people saying “Dean” would reveal to you your soulmate. You weren’t behind compared to everyone else, well - not until your twenty second birthday last Monday. Now you were statistically later than the average. Cassie had met her soulmate, Julia, two years prior, and she was tagging along for the convention to show her support and keep another set of eyes out for you. 

Most of your friends had pretty unique phrases inked on their skin, and yours was unique enough to be significant but bothersome enough to occassionally leave you tossing and turning in the middle of the night. Were the tattoos ever wrong? And was the person you were destined to be with named Dean, know a Dean, or just talk about a Dean? You had spent half your teenagerhood fearing half of your school’s football team. Not only was the worst linebacker on the team named Dean, but everyone he hung out with was equally as awful, both on and off the field. 

This caused you to turn to fictional Deans, and hope beyond hope that maybe your fantasized Dean would pop out of the screen or page and say those words you needed to hear. 

And that is how you found yourself at the coffee shop with Julia and Cassandra, waiting in a long line for one of the best cups of joe in town. You were trying to eye the menu at the front for their special muffins of the day, but Julia kept tapping on your toes. 

You glanced at her, and she made a frantic gesture behind you, to which you rolled your eyes and focused back on the muffins. Julia was not having this, and spun you around so that you were face to face with the person behind you in line. 

Well, it would turn out, not face to face - face to chest. Because the person you were facing was much taller than you. And tilting your head up, you realized who it was. 

“Oh my god, Dean!” Jensen smiled at you while you composed yourself, realizing your error, “I mean Jensen, hi!” Cassandra had turned around as well at this point and her and Julia were staring at Jensen. He just smiled at you all as you took him in and the shock wore off.

Holy cow he was very different up close. 

The camera was very forgiving, it smoothed out the small imperfections in his face, but the more you looked the less you would call them imperfections. Small freckles dotted his nose and under his eyes, and his eyes creased when he smiled, and you realized they would turn into deep squinted lines as he aged. 

“Next order please!” The barista behind you hollered, a gentle touch on your elbow from Cassie made you realize that it was you. Half a second of staring at Jensen felt like a million years, and you smiled sheepishly at him before turning back around. 

You ordered for yourself, and feeling generous after your very recent celebrity encounter, decided to cover for your friends. As they were mulling over their order, you turned back around to Jensen, who was staring out the window, respecting you and your friends’ privacy while you paid. 

“Jensen? Excuse me?” He turned back to you at the sound of his name, his shoulders tensing a little, probably not wanting to make a scene in a coffee shop before a panel, asking for autographs and photos. But that’s not what you asked. “Can I please buy you a coffee? My treat.” 

He gave you a more relaxed smile than before, less tension in his animated eyebrows, and in your haste and fumbling, you turned back around before he could say anything, and shouted over the din of the crowd and your friends, “and a medium black coffee as well, please!”

Jensen let out a throaty chuckle, “I don’t actually drink coffee like Dean.” And your eyes widened, an apology forming on your lips, but he beat you to it - “its okay, can I just have a latte with a little sweetener, please?” 

You nodded with a sheepish grin on your face, turning back to the barista to change the order. But after you paid, expecting your friends to have shuffled on a little farther, they were exactly where they were two minutes prior, staring open-mouthed at you when you bumped into them. 

“What?” you murmured under your breath, “should I not have bought him a coffee?” 

Cassandra rolled her eyes exasperatedly, and yanked on your hoodie. The zipper popped off and skidded across the floor, and you got out a flustered “hey!” before she managed to draw your attention to the words scrawled across your shoulder, revealed underneath your pink tank top. 

And you froze. 

And Cassandra and Julia froze. 

And you were still staring at your written tattoo in awe and confusion when a tentative hand entered your vision and brushed gentle calloused fingers along your shoulder. 

You unfroze then, eyes quickly finding Jensen’s. His open and wide in shock, eyelashes dark and ready to catch the sparkling liquid that was pooling in his green gems. 

Your mind whirred into overdrive, sometimes it was one way, sometimes people heard the words their soulmate would say hundreds of times before they would say the right thing back. You struggled not to get your hopes up, trying to articulate to one of your favourite actors your question. “But… do you… How do I….”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, struggling to understand, before noticing your friends looking to him. He clued in then. He kept his gaze on you as he bent down on one knee, and rolled his pants up over his right kneecap. 

And there, written in clean lines in a circle around his boyish knee, were your first words to him, “Oh my god, Dean!” And you gasped, covering your face with your hands, embarrassed that both your first words to each other were because you couldn’t disconnect reality from fiction. 

How pathetic of you. 

But Jensen didn’t seem to mind. He gave you a new smile, a wide-blown foolhardy grin, a weight released from his shoulders. He reached for your hand, twining your fingers together, and asked “what’s your name?”

You were suddenly inexplicably shy. “Y/N.” His eyes squinted further with warmth, happy. And you felt full of light and as though you could accomplish anything. 

After half a minute of soulful staring and ignoring your friends, your drinks arrived, and Jensen gave you a soft flutter of a kiss against your jaw as he left with his drink, your phone number, and a promise to call you after the panel and signings. 

Your friends were very accommodating for your shock, pulling you along gently back to the convention center and revealing your pass to the attendants before finding your seats near the back of the crowd. Both of them had one arm linked through yours the whole time, wide grins accompanying soft squeezes to your arms intermittently. 

You waited with the rest of the crowd, stunned and dazed. And as you began to thaw and look around, you realized that many others were in shock due to seeing their two favourite actors. But you could guarantee that no one was in as much shock as you were. 

When the boys eventually came on the stage, girls screamed with excitement. But you sat there stoic as a stone. You saw Jensen again and were wondering how what had just happened had happened. Wondering if it had happened at all. 

But you could tell it did. Because Jared was grinning ear to ear, and Jensen was pink and one knee was bouncing in anxiety, and you could see the barista’s handwriting with “Y/N” scrawled on the side of the disposable mug he carried and set down on the floor next to his chair. 

And then you settled down for a delightful two hours. You watched as Jensen answered fan questions, using this time to get to know him, get to see him. He shifted in his seat often, moving constantly. He was very aware of Jared, they touched and wove around each other when they moved. They sought each other with their hands for support and amusement, had deep meaningful eye contact. And you began to wonder if you soon would be able to recognize the subtle emotions of his face, brows, and lips. What it would be like. How it would work. 

And you zoned in and out of thought as the afternoon wore on, happy and content for the first time since your twentieth birthday, after you were still alone for it. But not now. Julia and Cassandra were equally as enraptured as you, listening to the two men, holding hands and relaxed in the space and with themselves. 

And it was near the end of the question period before someone asked the question that was asked every convention that the boys never answered: “so, can we see your soulmate tattoos?” 

The air stilled around you. Both men looked at each other. The crowd stopped shifting, girls waiting to hear the response they thought they knew the answer to. 

No. It was always no. Rumour had it that both lead actors on the show were still soulmate-less. Still alone without their other half. And so many actors had had problems with revealed tattoos before they found their one. So many scams and falsehoods that they would have to maneuver around to find their ideal person. 

But this time they paused, and looked at each other. 

Jared took his beanie off and ruffled his hair, he leaned on his mic stand and said into the microphone, “actually, sure.” He gave the crowd a moment to cheer and cry, and then another moment for them to realize why he was finally comfortable showing it, and then the crowd was silent in a different way. 

Jared chuckled at the reaction, “sorry ladies,” he looked over at Jensen then, “we started filming for season four last week, as I’m sure you know. And I think I’ve hinted before in an interview that my tattoo said something about the show.” Murmured confirmation from the crowd. “And long story short, she showed up on set three days ago, playing a character in the next season, saying exactly what I wanted to hear.” 

The crowd started cheering again, and Jared lifted up his shirt to reveal a long sentence etched into his ribs. He let a few cameras flash before dropping it again and glancing at Jensen. 

Then the crowd truly went wild, because Jensen stood up and said quickly into the microphone, “and I’ve got a story for you today, too.”

You couldn’t stop staring at this man. He stood up and addressed the crowd. He was proud. Of you. He was all confidence and ease, a new warmth to his person that you hadn’t noticed before, possibly the alleviation of the anxiety of finding himself aging without a soulmate. But oh, did he look the opposite of aged now. 

His hair was a little ruffled from running his hands through it, his armpits a little damp. But he looked perfect. Tousled and flustered and so unbelievably happy. You grinned then, too. And reached a hand out to hold Cassie’s hand. You rested your head on her shoulder, “thank you Cassie, thank you.” So unquestionably grateful for the tickets she had gotten for you all. For leading you here. 

Cassie leaned back into you as Jensen began to talk. 

He wasn’t brief like Jared was. This was quite a tale. 

He started as a young child. How he had looked up professions online that led to the quickest soulmate discoveries, how he had chosen acting for that reason. He made friends with people named Dean, sought roles for films and shows with characters named Dean. And it was only once he landed the gig on Supernatural he had a good feeling in his gut. 

But, given how common his words were, he didn’t realize how often they would get said. Jared said them numerous times within the pilot, and he actually yanked Jared aside to make him show Jensen his tattoo and prove that they weren’t. Jared chimed in then, affirming this story, causing the crowd to laugh. 

And Jensen went on, he told the crowd how frustrating it was sometimes to play Dean, to question every person that came up, how it desensitized him to his soulmate’s words. 

And then. “And that’s why when I actually met her, I didn’t say anything back, because I was unsure, and scared, and hopeful.” And you were handed a tissue by Julia because you were crying. Because he had been waiting too. You both had. And it was a shock for that waiting to be over. To find your soulmate in someone like him. 

And as he finished and the crowd cooed and whispered appreciatively and with a little resignation at both the boys finding their soulmates within a few weeks. But the mood was bright, and everyone filed out of the convention hall after the last few questions with expressions of happiness on their faces, soulmate stories always could cheer up a crowd. 

You waited in the hallway outside the autograph room with Julia and Cassandra, the two of them had pulled their books out of their bags and were passing the time waiting with you. Because although he was your certified soulmate, their mother hen behaviour didn’t let them leave you alone just yet. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. Suddenly anxious again. What if you were one of the few soulmates who didn’t work out? What if he found you plain? Then you remembered all the schooling and education surrounding the soulmate theory, and that he wouldn’t find you plain. And there were no reasons it shouldn’t work out. Despite your factual comfortings, you continued to shuffle, this time adding some tapping fingers against the wall. 

The click of the latch pulled the three of you out of your individual focuses, and Jensen glances the wrong way down the hall before whipping his head around in your direction and settling his eyes on you. 

When his face lit up in a grin you knew it would be okay, that your fears were for naught, and you were oh so lucky to be right here, right now. 

You were already reaching for him, a hand outstretched, when he said, “Hi,” his hand finding yours, “wanna go?”


End file.
